Woman of substance, sophistication,
world-weariness
The woman who knew it all
The multi-tasker, the doer of all things
that need to be done
The lover of lists, the lover of checkboxes
and checkmarks
The keeper of neat piles in neat stacks in
neat boxes
The woman who knew how to manage it all
Who took things in her stride
Not a hair out of place
Then there came a day
Just a day like any other, one of many
black figures on the calendar
A little special ‘cos she would go to the
beach
A childhood sanctuary, favourite first
place on one of her lists
She stood there on the paved walkway by the
beach
Watching the boats in the blue yonder
Bobbing like puppets doing a dance
Directed by an invisible hand
A breeze tickled her ear
Wisps of hair came undone from her careful
topknot
The breeze gathered strength
Something stirred deep within
She gazed at the sea
Was it calling to her?
The breeze was getting uncomfortable now
And yet in a way she was strangely cosy
Off came her slippers
Tossed aside in an uncharacteristic move
Locks of hair slipping out
She stepped out onto the still-warm sand
Watching the sun begin its descent towards
Its routine yet bewitching dip in the deep
Hesitant steps soon broke into a run
The wind embracing her lifting her hair as
she finally let it loose
Now like a benign Medusa she stood
At the foamy edge of the shy waters lapping
the shore
The wetness tickling her feet
She saw the high tide build up
And she walked in letting the wave wash
over her
She fell back onto the shore drenched
Rivulets of salt running off her
Marking her with sand and bleached remains
of seashells
The breeze enveloped her now
A gutsy wind unafraid of her steady gaze
Goosepimples bedraggled hair wet lips
The taste of sand in her mouth
Dirty she was and yet strangely cleansed
A freedom to be herself or even to just be
Delicious in its newness and as comfortable
as an old worn blanket
She let herself go
The waves washed over her again and again
The breeze made unruly love to her
Her checkboxes lay unmarked
This woman who suddenly did not know it all
Did not have all the answers
But who had awoken from a long sleep
To soul-quenching, soul-stirring Life
The staid figures on her calendar laughed
as they danced
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